


A Bad, Bad, Bad, Bad Idea

by Toralyzer



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: CW: Self Harm, CW: fire, CW: violence & weapons, F/F, Pre-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), cw: relationship abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 04:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toralyzer/pseuds/Toralyzer
Summary: My two favorite characters are in love!





	1. Prologue: Welcome to Lesbianism

This story begins with Touko Fukawa spread-eagled on the floor, the tortured remnants of a ripped-up manuscript scattered around her, blobby tears soaking her face and sliding down to her collar, and a little starscape of papercuts sprinkled across her fingers.

One thing about this scene, however, was different than usual.

“It’s ok... Let it out, alright?” came a sympathetic voice. “It’s okay to be frustrated.”

Makoto sat at the desk in Touko’s room, watching her patiently. Seeing her reach a moment of calm, he quickly went for the box of bandaids he kept in her desk drawer and started counting out a good twenty of them.

Touko sat in abject misery, the drip of her tears the only motion she could stomach at that moment.

Makoto kept talking steadily. “You’re still here. I’m still here. We’re still friends.”

Makoto started handing her the bandaids. It helped to give her something physical to do. Touko sniffled and started dutifully applying them over the many tiny cuts she had just reopened.

They sat in silence for a little while, save the small sounds of bandaid wrappers and adhesive.

When Touko was finally done, gingerly flexing her half-mummified hands, Makoto finally asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Touko bit her lip, looking down at the wreckage of papers. “I-It doesn’t work...” she mumbled.

Makoto blinked. “You mean like... um, the story? The plot...?”

_ “It doesn’t WORK!” _ Touko grabbed her head in her hands and shrieked as her brain exploded again. “It doesn’t work anymore! N-n-none of it! I c-c-c-can’t talk to Master anymore, and n-now even in f-fiction, all the love, all the p-passion, I can’t... it doesn’t... _ work!” _

Byakuya had gotten a restraining order against her about a month ago, which she had yet to understand was a blessing in disguise.

“So... when you say ‘it doesn’t work’, you mean...”

Makoto thought for a moment. _ For Touko, if her writing ‘doesn’t work’, it must mean... _

_ It won’t sell well? _

_ It won’t get her more fans? _

_ It won’t provide an escapist fantasy from her trauma? _

“...You mean, it doesn’t feel right to be writing about all these perfect romances anymore?”

“YES!” Touko choked on the word, as if it was unfamiliar to her, and entered a small coughing fit. Makoto quickly passed her a water bottle, which she placed on the floor and ignored.

Most would be shocked to read Touko’s lavishly affectionate novels and compare them to the girl herself, but Makoto thought her writing made a subtle kind of sense. The idealized, tightly gendered pairings she wrote were exactly the roles she had tried to force herself and Byakuya into. If she was becoming uncomfortable with that, it could be... progress?

“So, maybe it would make you happy... to write a different kind of story?”

“N-no!” Touko looked fearful, like someone was going to make her do it. “No, no, no, no, no, no! I c-_ can’t _ write a d-different kind of story, ‘cause... ‘cause...” Her words trailed off into a fresh bout of tears and her gaze dropped back to the floor.

_ Oops, let’s try a different approach. _

“Do you think maybe... something could help you think about romance differently?”

“H-huh?” Touko looked back up at him.

Makoto hesitated. Was it really the right time to say something like this?

Well, surely bringing up the idea couldn’t do any harm in the long run.

“Touko, are you - um, I mean, do you know that - um - I mean, have you ever...”

The confused expression on her face was drifting towards panic.

“Um, Touko, do you know girls can date girls?”

Touko looked at him in horror. _ “What!?” _ An alarming blush bloomed in her face as her hands compulsively made claws, her veins standing out. “Y-y-y-you think I’m o-one of those... s-s-s-sluts who... even mess around with women!?”

“No, you’ve got that wrong!” Makoto put up his hands in defense. “It’s really not like that, Touko! I mean, think about Hina and Sakura. They’re the nicest people in our class. Just because they’re gay, it’s not like they’re somebody’s gross erotic fantasy. They just love each other. Is there anything wrong with that?”

Touko again gripped her head in her hands, screwing up her face and straining her muscles as if trying to crush the thoughts away. “Y-y-y-y-” she started. But she couldn’t finish. She just sat there, her heart pounding in her ears, trying to hide from the world. Until eventually her adrenalin just started to die down, her heavy breathing settled, and she limply dropped her hands to the floor and let her eyes open.

“You’re saying... girls can...” Tears popped up in the corners of her eyes. “...Be in love with girls?”

“...Yeah, Touko.” Makoto gave her a little smile.

Her tears began to flow again, but this time they felt calmer and softer, like rivers down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“So passion, a-and love, a-and devotion, and... love... can be with girls?”

“Definitely.”

She sat and cried quietly. Makoto couldn’t figure out what felt strange at first, until he realized he’d never seen her cry without screaming.

Finally, as if drawing the words from the bottom of a deep well, she whispered, “Could I... be with a girl?”

“Yeah, you absolutely could, Touko.” Makoto was beaming with relief. He hadn’t been sure how deep the homophobia went, or if it was really of the ‘internalized’ variety in the first place, but it seemed like he had guessed right. He was really, really happy that he could help his friend feel a little more at peace.

“Then I think...” whispered Touko. Her stomach had not only butterflies, but all sorts of different bugs. There were so many warm, achy little feelings inside her that she usually interpreted as jealousy, hatred, and disgust - the emotions that girls can have for girls - and acted accordingly. But this new option... it made her feel _ so, so weird. _

“I think... I want to ask out...”

Belatedly, Makoto realized something important. It could be a serious disaster if Touko chose the _ wrong _ girl to ask out first. Makoto loved all his friends, but he had to admit that if it was Celes, or Mukuro, or even Kyoko, things might not turn out so good... He was about to say something, when Touko concluded:

“Junko.”

Makoto breathed a sigh of relief. Junko was a nice, friendly girl, but not a pushover. If anyone could handle a simple, sweet first relationship with Touko, it might be her.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea!” he smiled encouragingly. “Ask her on a date, Touko.”

Touko clasped her hands together and smiled a deep, heartfelt smile.

“I... I can’t wait!”


	2. Part 1: Junko Enoshima’s Peacetime Survival Guide

_ You don’t have to be a freakazoid to love Touko, but it helps. _

For the first year of the plan, Junko had to find ways to entertain herself.

Most of her usual pastimes were out of the question. For a quick fix, she’d taken to keeping a collection of tamagotchis and regularly letting them starve. (This also helped with her image as a ditz.) She’d set up a few online scams to steal the passwords to people’s Runescape accounts. She’d even taken to writing RPF about her classmates living their personal worst nightmares, as well as sketching out potential executions for if they ever ended up a culprit. She even did this for people from the other classes, who wouldn’t be participating.

Nanase from Class #79, she thought, would be eaten by fire ants who were all wearing little cowboy hats.

Junko leaned forward and hit her notebook page from view as Taka walked past her. The boy would never guess she was really planning anything messed up, but her drawings  _ could  _ at the very least make a person uncomfortable, and that was no good for her.

Well...

It was no good for the  _ plan. _

But  _ god _ did she want to taste some despair.

The bell rang the instant Taka sat down in his seat, and Junko settled in for another depressingly dull class period.

As the teacher droned on about practical methods to combat global warming, something else started to itch Junko’s attention. It took her a moment to place it. But soon she couldn’t ignore the suspicion that someone had their eyes on her.

That wasn’t good. She quickly flipped her notebook over to the decoy doodle of a puppy and some flowers. She wondered who in the class could be on to her. Did Kirigiri peg her so quickly? She  _ knew  _ that girl was a liability. Or could it be Chihiro? That one noticed more than she let on. Or Sakura? Junko started to fear for her life. Or could it be Hiro? Well, no, it definitely couldn’t.

Or was someone unknown hiding in this room? She began to sweat.

She sweated out the rest of the lesson on climate change, getting ready to bolt for the exit as soon as the bell rang, grab Mukuro, and go consult in one of their rooms. When the ring came, she jumped from her seat and ran for the door, but there was already a figure blocking her way. Her hand went to her concealed knife - but stopped short as she realized who it was.

Touko Fukawa was standing in the doorway. She was looking down shyly, and pushing her index fingers together as if she had something to say.

“Junko, um...”

Junko stopped in her tracks. Her face, unbidden, kicked on a blush to match her hair dye. Touko... talking to  _ her? _ It’s not like she’d never fantasized about it... but Touko hated girly-girls. Even more than she hated everyone. And a girly-girl, unfortunately, was the role Junko needed to play in order to get along with everyone else.

Touko was struggling to speak. Junko found herself waiting with bated breath. Then, more quickly and more confidently than Junko expected, Touko whispered:

“W-w-w-will y-you... g-go... o-o-o-out w-with m-me?”

Junko stared, hot prickles running up her whole body. Touko Fukawa - with her awful greasy hair, sunken eyes, painful expressions, wanted  _ her _ .

“Yes!” she blurted, before she could think at all.

The loudness of her reply drew eyes from the other stragglers in the class; the appearance of the scene quickly raised their eyebrows.

Junko’s insides went cold immediately. She had  _ fucked _ up. She couldn’t  _ date  _ while keeping a secret identity! But she couldn’t take back her response either, without that in itself breaking her character. Only a few months into the first year, and she had already let her desires get the better of her.  _ Damn it, Junko! _

Touko looked at her in shock. “You... you... you... you will??”

“Um...” said Junko, hesitating.

But in that moment, looking at that desperate face, Junko decided that if the damage was done, she may as well let herself enjoy it.

She readjusted her sharp fashionista smile.

“Yep! I’d love to. When were you thinking of going out?”

Touko had obviously bluescreened. “I - I - I -”

Junko grinned. “Don’t worry about it, Fukawa. It’s Friday tomorrow - I’ll meet you after school, we can go to a cafe. Yeah?”

“Y...y...yeah!” Touko looked the way Aoi did when someone brought donuts before a test. It was surprisingly cute on her. Suppressed fantasies were already bubbling up in Junko’s mind - but right now she had to stay sharp.

“Alright, see you then, sweet cheeks.” Junko swished past the stunned Touko and out of the room, leaving the roomful of dropped jaws behind her.

As soon as Junko had rounded a few corners, she leaned against the wall and let out a deep breath. She put a hand to her forehead and slowly shook her head at herself. Her cheeks were burning, and she was grinning like a skeleton without even meaning to.

Yep... she had fucked up. But she had fucked up real, real good.

Junko unlocked her dorm room, still feeling a happy fluttering in her heart. As she walked inside, she felt something snag against her foot, and then abruptly a large hammer came down and smashed against her head.

“GAAH!!” screeched Junko as she dizzily collapsed onto the carpet. She scrambled to flip herself over and put up her arms in defense. But her attacker was standing a good several feet away, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and a deadpan expression.

“Quick question,” said Mukuro flatly. “Are you crazy?”

Junko picked herself up, trying to salvage a modicum of grace. She pouted at her sister. “Apparently I am. Is there anything wrong with that?”

Mukuro’s eyes narrowed. “Well, as juicy as it would be to ruin our master plan before we even have a chance to begin...” She abruptly changed to a barking shout. “DON’T FUCKING DO THAT!”

“I won’t!” yelled Junko, throwing a knife at her sister’s forearm. Mukuro casually blocked it with another knife she pulled out of her sleeve and the projectile clattered to the ground.

“I have to know, Junko.” Mukuro began pacing along Junko’s wall. “Is this a trick? Is this a plot? Is this anything? Because you’re  _ not _ really this stupid. I know that.”

“I  _ am _ this stupid!” yelled Junko, charging at her sister with a spiked knucklebuster on her fist.

Mukuro grabbed her arm and bent it behind her back, flipping her around. She held her favorite serrated knife up to Junko’s throat.

At that moment, there was a soft, hesitant knock on the door.

They both froze.

“...Who is it?” Junko called out, holding as still as possible.

“U-u-ummm...” came Touko’s voice. “I... I-I wanted to... I-I c-couldn’t wait to see you, M...M...Master.”

Junko blinked. It seemed that Mr. Togami didn’t quite own everything.

“Hm, uh...” Junko called out. “I think it would be better to wait for our date official. Okay, Touko?”

“O...O...O...Okay!" They heard her footsteps shuffle off down the hall.

For a moment, there was silence.

Mukuro sighed. “It’s not anything, is it? You just can’t resist that girl. Of course you can’t.”

Junko grinned a dopey grin as a line of blood started to trickle down her clavicle. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. She is.”

Junko sighed. “So... fuckin’... hopeless.”

Mukuro released her grip on Junko and put the knife away. She opened her arms for a simple hug. “Alright, sis. You have fun. Just make sure you don’t mess this up for us.”

Junko smiled and turned around to meet the hug. “Aw, sis. You know me.”

And with that, she rammed her knee as hard as she could into her sister’s crotch.

_ Junko does not have an angel and a devil on her shoulders. She has a white monobear and a black monobear. _

An awful sense of unease was spreading through a small cafe in the town near Hope’s Peak. Patrons were becoming twitchy and restless. Servers were hesitant to approach the source of the disturbance, a booth where two teenage girls sat across from one another.

The dark purple-haired girl was staring at her partner with an unrestrained hunger, with eyes half-lidded and drool seeping from her open mouth.

The pink-haired girl looked overtly normal, meeting her partner’s heavy gaze with a pleasantly happy smile. But there was something wrong about it... even if only due to the obvious incongruity. There was an energy emanating from her. An energy that made you want to spend all your cash on fancy lattes in case you got hit by a car tomorrow.

The servers drew lots in the back room.

One of them was pushed out into the diner. She took a breath and boldly walked up to the offending table. She put on a bright smile.

“Do you know what you’d like to order?”

“Huh??” The purple-haired girl turned to look at her in shock, as if rudely awakened to the existence of other people.

Her date met the server with a calm smile. “Yeah, gimme a soy matcha latte. Touko?”

“C-C-C-Caramel macchiato,” the girl whispered to the table.

“Perfect. That will be right out.” The server scribbled the orders into her notepad and took off at speed.

There was a moment of quiet.

Junko twirled a strand of ponytail hair around her finger. “So, Touko...”

“Huh??” Touko’s attention snapped back, as though she’d been caught doing something wrong.

“So, uh... what’s a sweetie like you see in a ditz like me?”

A warm blush spread through Touko’s whole body.

“Uhh.... W-w... uhh...” It took her a moment to find her facial muscles and swallow her mouthful of spit.

“Uh... uh... uh... your s-smile... y-your e-exuberance... y-your boots... y-y-y-your p-pretty hair...”

Touko had started crying, possibly without noticing it herself.

Junko felt a pang of love in her chest. “That’s  _ so  _ sweet! You know why I like you?”

“What??” Touko jumped in shock, her eyes darting around in case cracks started appearing in the fabric of reality.

Junko giggled. “I do, Touko. I like you.”

Touko stared at her with a mix of hunger and fear. “W-what do y-you... W-what...”

Junko started. “I...”

_ Fuck. _

Well, there were a few things she  _ couldn’t _ say. She couldn’t say  _ ‘I love the way your heart thumps with panic when other people pay attention to you.’ _ She couldn’t say  _ ‘I love the way you claw your hands when your brain starts overheating.’ _ And she most likely  _ shouldn’t  _ say  _ ‘I love the way you desperately sabotage the relationships you most cherish as a way to protect yourself from the pain of connection.’ _

“I like your eyes,” Junko finished.

“M...my eyes?” Touko repeated.

“They’re... deep.”

The world seemed frozen for a moment.

Then a lopsided hiccupy laugh started bubbling up through Touko’s body. “M...M...Master likes my eyes!” she squealed to herself. “M-M-My eyes! They’re  _ deep!” _

A wolfish smile bloomed on Junko’s face. The sheer  _ desperation _ coming across the table in waves. Desperation was on step away from despair. God, the things she’d like to do to this girl...

A small scuffing sound startled them both.

“Here you are,” said the server, setting their coffees on the table. “Will there be anything else?” She accidentally met Touko’s blissed-out gaze and averted her eyes.

“Nope, we’re good!” said Junko with her signature wide grin. “Thanks!”

The server gathered up her tray and ran.

Touko watched Junko take a casual sip of her (still scalding) coffee.

“D...d...do you want mine too, Master?” she asked breathlessly.

Junko laughed. “No, ‘course not. The point of the date is having coffee together.”

“O-oh!” Touko cringed at herself.

“There’s nothing I want more than for you to enjoy your drink.” Junko smiled ebulliently.

“O-o-okay!!” Touko squeaked and grabbed for her cup. She rushed it to her lips and drank shakily, spilling a few wince-inducing drops down her chin. She put the cup down, swallowed the large helping, and smiled, eyes closed, basking in the feeling of love.

Junko watched her happily for a few moments. And then, all of a sudden, the devil moved her lips.

“Hey, you want a sip of mine?”

Touko gasped. “M-Master!? Y-y-you... would... you w-want...” She started breathing very quickly. “Y-y-you w-want to sh-share a c-c-cup w-with me?? You w-want - me to put my lips - i-in the s-s-same place - that your lips - !?”

Junko could hear a voice in the back of her mind yelling, _ Don’t do this, dumbass!! This is how you get us found out!!! _

The voice in the  _ front  _ of her mind still had her lips, and was saying, “Yeah. No big deal. See what mine tastes like.” And then smiling.

Touko stared at Junko’s cup longingly, her lips quivering and dripping with drool once again.

Junko picked up the cup and held it across the table to Touko. Touko reached out to take it, and just as her fingers started to brush the cup, Junko let go prematurely and let it drop.

The coffee burst open on Touko’s side of the table and splashed everywhere, all over Touko’s uniform and into her lap. Many of the other patrons, who had been getting progressively tenser for the past several minutes, twitched violently at the sudden noise. Touko shrieked.

“I - I - I - I - I - I’m so SORRYYYYYYYY!”

She lunged for the basket of napkins and began mopping at the coffee in an ineffectual frenzy, mostly sloshing it around the table and onto herself and the floor, as she repeated her apology at an ever-increasing tempo. Finally she collapsed at the futility of the effort, her panic turning inward into shakes and hyperventilation, her hands tightly gripping her skull and her gaze exiled downward and away from Junko’s expression.

Junko was having a hard time holding it together.

She hadn’t witnessed a rush of despair this bad since... a  _ long time. _ She was fighting to stop her body from shivering, biting hard into her lower lip to keep herself silent. A man in another booth looked around for the commotion, made eye contact with her, and instantly turned back around, keeping his attention on his pastry.

She almost couldn’t do it, but she forced herself to put a stop to this before the girl fainted.

“Touko, it’s okay.”

“N-n... I-i-it’s... N... I...” Touko gasped wetly.

“Touko. Don’t worry about it.” Junko said in a clear, definite tone.

“O-okay.”

The panic suddenly drained from Touko’s body, leaving her in a trembling aftershock.

Junko bit back a wide, ecstatic smile. She couldn’t resist. She would not be able to resist playing with her,  _ just _ a little. There was no way she could resist. Having a girlfriend was going to be the best thing in her life.

Besides, no one had seen that little tiny thing she did.

No one could prove anything.

No one would ever figure out she wasn’t what she seemed.

Touko tentatively looked up at Junko’s face, clutching her own cup of coffee with both hands. “D-d-do you w-want some of m-mine now?” she asked.

Junko beamed, a bead of blood sliding down her lip.

In the back room, the servers drew lots to clean up the spill. Some of them were hiding in the bathroom.

When the two of them got home a couple hours later, Junko walked her date back to her room. She dropped Touko off covered in coffee stains, emotionally exhausted, and shaking with the leftover adrenaline that people tended to experience when Junko’s real personality showed through. Needless to say, Touko was glowing with happiness.

Junko, on the other hand, had a terrible creeping feeling in the pit of her stomach. Now that she was back at school, prudence was beginning to reassert itself, and she didn’t know  _ what  _ she would do if she really had screwed things up for good this time.

Touko would realize. She would look back on this tomorrow, at all the ways Junko had toyed with her deliciously volatile feelings. And then she would tell someone.

Next time, if there  _ was  _ a next time, Junko  _ had  _ to keep her despair thirst in check.

But that smile. Touko’s spacey, pervy, no-one-exists-but-you smile. It wouldn’t leave Junko’s head, even after Touko’s door had closed.

Once she and Touko parted, Junko walked the few steps down the hall and let herself into Mukuro’s room.

Mukuro was on her bed, reading a book on the Salem witch trials hidden inside a book on Statistics. She discarded the latter, seeing that it was only Junko at the door.

“You kids have fun?” she asked without looking up.

“Yes,” said Junko happily. She started pacing, skipping, and twirling back and forth through the room, unable to keep still. “We had an amazing time.”

“You understand I won’t ask any more, because you’re forcing me to trust you.”

“Come  _ ooon, _ Mukuchi!” Junko pouted. “Can’t you just let me have this?”

“You’re telling me you didn’t break one bit?” Mukuro looked up at her coolly. “You were alone with that girl - with  _ that _ girl - and you didn’t torture her even a little? You didn’t bliss out for a second? You didn’t say anything weird?”

Junko kept her cool and met Mukuro’s stare, even though she could feel her insides sloshing around.

“She never once looked at you strangely?” asked Mukuro. “She didn’t notice one thing wrong?”

And then, in one despair-inducingly dreadful moment, it hit her.

The thing about that smile.

It was the  _ exact _ same smile Touko had shown at the  _ beginning  _ of their date. Nothing had changed. Nothing had broken her expectations.

_ She doesn’t know. _

It was such a deliciously horrifying idea, it made her weak in the knees.

No, Touko really  _ hadn’t  _ noticed anything wrong. Not one bit of the ravenous sadism bursting the buttons off Junko’s skin. And not because Junko was slick. But because Touko had  _ no idea _ that a normal date shouldn’t be like that.

The sheer awfulness of it washed through Junko’s mind like a headrush. She felt faint. She thought she ought to sit down.

“What?” snapped Mukuro. “What does that expression mean?”

Junko collapsed backward onto the bed and strained her eyes upward to look at her upside-down sister.

“It means don’t worry, little sis,” she said with spacey, pervy grin. “It means everything’s gonna work out just fine.”

_ God, _ she wished she was a  _ despair vampire, _ so she could suck every drop of desperation out of Touko’s pretty little neck.

Well, she supposed that’s why people had romance.

Because they couldn’t be vampires.


	3. Part 2: Girl-Girl Passion Fashion Magazine

Over the next several days, Mukuro caught frequent glimpses of the two girls together. Neither one of them really had the self-awareness to take a break, so their relationship was proceeding at a blinding pace.

In class, she would see Touko drooling over Junko from the back of the room, fixated to the exclusion of all else. Or she would see Junko making dovey eyes at Touko when the latter got called on and started to melt down over not knowing the answer.

At group meals or class events, they would hold hands and huddle tightly together, Touko smugly eyeing around for people to make jealous and growling and snapping at any challengers for Junko’s attention, while Junko chatted with their classmates casually and acted like this was normal.

They spent the evenings together in one room or the other; sometimes Junko would dress Touko up in beautifully embarrassing ensembles, or they would trade bleedingly passionate love poems, or sometimes play seemingly innocuous games like truth or dare.

On occasion, Mukuro would walk in on them apparently in the midst of an intimate moment, before realizing Touko had simply fainted from delight and/or stress and Junko was attempting to bring her back to reality.

And of course, Touko sometimes came to Junko’s room at night and sat against her door, quietly rocking back and forth, while Junko slept.

She fell asleep there one day, and in the morning Junko opened the door only to have Touko topple inward, and continue snoring on the rug.

Smiling fondly, Junko crouched down and gently pet Touko’s hair until she came awake. The girl’s eyes opened slowly, groggy from dreams.

“H...ah...AAAAAH!” As soon as she processed where she was, Touko screeched and flopped like a salmon trying to get up. “I - M-M-M-Master! I - I’m sorry -”

Junko giggled. “That’s okay, cutie pie. I know you just couldn’t wait to see me.”

“Th-th-thank you, Master!” Touko sparkled with joy. She finally managed to pick herself up, but ended up settling for a kneeling position at Junko’s feet.

“You’re such a sweet girl.” Junko reached out to pet Touko’s head again. The moment her fingers made contact, Touko’s mind shot into the stratosphere.

“M-M-Master,” Touko mumbled through the stars in her eyes, “D-do you th-think it would be okay... i-if I spent the night in your room?”

Junko blinked. That was moving a little fast, wasn’t it?

But, it’s not like they were going to  _ do _ anything.

And it’s not like it was that weird, one way or another, for friends or girlfriends to have sleepovers.

“Yeah, cutie, sure.” Junko smiled. “I don’t know what could go wrong with that. Move your sleepover stuff in here sometime today, okay?”

“Okay!” Touko chirped back, wiggling with happiness.

When Junko returned that afternoon, her room had been completely wrecked.

Junko’s heart sped up immediately. Her first thought was of a violent struggle. Her sheets were tangled and ripped, pictures were smashed, papers were strewn, and furniture was toppled. But worse, several of the weapons she kept hidden in various places were now lying on the floor, with corresponding slashes and holes in the walls and in various broken objects.

Touko wasn’t here. Which meant she either wasn’t in the room at all, or she was in the shower room.

Junko stepped through the wreckage slowly. A horrible fear was spreading through her body at what she would find on the other side of that door, and she wanted to savor it for as long as she could.

Could Touko have been  _ killed? _ Now?? In  _ her  _ room??? By  _ who???? _

Junko reached for the doorknob, her heart thumping in her ears.

She threw open the door.

_ “Do you mind!?” _ shrieked the girl in the shower.

Junko jumped and instinctively slammed the door closed.

Welp. She had seen it.

It had been all the way out. And completely wet. And extremely pink.

A very long tongue had been lolling out of Touko’s mouth. It seemed that Genocider Syo had come out to play.

Syo slammed the door open a moment later, a towel fastened around her body using a pair of her scissors as the pin.

“Alright, what’s the big idea!?” she roared.

“Um... sorry about that,” answered Junko, from where she sat on her eviscerated bed. “Hey... mind telling me what you’ve done with my room, here?”

“Oh, that’s easy!” chirped Syo with a pleasant smile. “I woke up here. I didn’t know where I was. So I trashed the place!” She threw back her head and cackled. “Kyeeehahahahahaha!”

Junko waited patiently.

Genocider finished her laugh and wiped a tear from her eye. “So, uh... what is this place, anyway? Whose room is this?”

“It’s mine,” said Junko brightly.

“Huh?”

Junko watched the wires connect in Genocider’s mind, like a changing traffic light.

_ “WHAAAAAAT!?” _ Genocider shrieked, brandishing a second pair of scissors out of nowhere.  _ “Her - and - you - in - ?” _

Junko shrugged.

“Miss Gloomy Guts is that desperate, huh??” Syo sputtered, her eye twitching. “Even  _ she’s _ messing around with girls now? Is it the new thing? The modern world is so slutty that even the biggest loser at  _ least  _ messes around with girls???”

The corner of Junko’s mouth quirked up in amusement. “Not how I’d describe it, but...”

“You bitch! I’LL KILL YOU!”

Genocider rushed at Junko with her razor-sharp scissors open.

“Not if I kill you first.”

Junko pushed off the bed and somersaulted over Syo’s head. She landed on one foot and with the other sent a backwards kick into Syo’s lower back, launching her over the bed to crash upside-down against the far wall.

Syo lay there for a moment, flabbergasted.

Internally, Junko rolled her eyes.  _ She always talks about it being an art. But she’s never been challenged when it comes to the actual killing! _

Collecting her wits, Syo rolled to her feet, her tongue flopping out of her mouth like a prehistoric slug. “Is that all you got!?” she shrieked with a manic grin. “Come show me what you’re made of, you cow!”

_ Okay. _

Junko pulled out a handgun and fired thrice at Genocider’s head. Syo dashed to the side, in the same motion throwing her pair of scissors like a dart. It pierced straight into Junko’s hand, sending both the gun and a spurt of blood flying into the air.  _ “Eeeagh!!” _

Junko’s other hand went for the jackknife in her pocket, but Syo was rushing at her bare-knuckle, fists clenched to shatter her nose. Just in time, Junko threw up her hands to meet the grapple, grabbing Syo’s forearms and planting her feet against the girl’s wild momentum. Using all her weight, she reversed the charge and forced Genocider back until her back slammed against the wall and she had her arms pinned at her sides.

The two girls were still for a moment, breathing hard.

Then instantly they were making out, Junko’s hands cupping Genocider’s face, Syo’s fingers tangled in the back of Junko’s hair.

A little while later they separated with a pop. Junko had a dorky grin. Syo’s tongue was wiggling with excitement.

“Okay,” Syo decided. “I guess this is fine, then.”

One afternoon - nearly a month in, or at least three weeks - Touko and Junko were having a moment of downtime. Junko was sitting with legs folded on her bed, reading a book on amusement park accidents. Touko lay peacefully with her head in Junko's lap, struggling to keep still as all the blood rushed into her head.

Moments of stillness ticked by.

"Master..." Touko murmured, "I feel so calm when I'm with you."

Junko raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

Touko blinked, thinking about it. Then suddenly she burst out crying. It was unclear what emotion the tears held. "No!" she gasped. "Not at all!!"

Junko chuckled. "What  _ do _ you feel?"

"I, I feel - th-this mean, thick storm. It takes away my breath whenever I'm near you. It makes the energy squeeze out of me. So - I feel - I feel love!" Touko concluded - indeed, breathlessly. She looked anxiously up, as if waiting for approval.

Junko stared down at her, expressionless. She was thinking.

Did she dare - ?

She looked at Touko’s stupid, stupid face. The girl was the opposite of a liability.

Of course she dared. She couldn’t keep the gift to herself.

Holding back a smile, Junko reached down and gently wiped a tear off Touko's cheek.

She held the tear up to Touko’s lips. "Taste it," she said.

Touko’s eyebrows shot up, and then she quickly poked out her tongue and licked.

“What does it taste like?” Junko asked.

"I - I don't know, Master," said Touko, eyes wide. "It's salty..."

"That taste is called despair," Junko concluded. "And that's what you're feeling inside. Despair is a feeling far greater than love, or happiness, or contentment. Despair is the best thing in the world, if only people could realize it."

"But... we're at  _ Hope's _ Peak," Touko said with an uncertain half-smile.

Junko smiled. "Dark irony is a very good type of despair."

Touko stared at her, thinking about it.

“So... that’s why you like it when things go wrong?”

Junko started.  _ Wait  _ so she -

She knew - ??

“Yeah,” said Junko, blinking. “Because - and this is a secret - despair is how I live my life. So, no matter how sad I am - no matter how angry, or uncomfortable, or gut-wrenchingly self conscious, or lonely, or disappointed, or scared, or disgusted, or burning with self-hatred, or sleepy, or horribly sick, or anxious, or overloaded, or distracted by buzzing, tumbling thoughts, or jealous, or regretful, or homesick, or grieving, or delirious, or hungover, or just blacked-out overwhelmed, or in any kind of  _ pain _ from the physical to the emotional to the mental... it’s a good thing. You see?” Junko grinned cheerfully.

Touko was staring at her raptly now, nodding. “I - I think so, Master.”

“Despair is  _ so _ important, Touko. People couldn’t survive this world without it.” She brushed a loose strand of greasy hair out of Touko’s eyes. “And what’s more...” she said softly, “do you know what  _ you _ are?”

"What??" asked Touko, her eyes widening in fear.

"You're  _ good at it," _ Junko told her.

"Oh!" Touko gave a joyful little gasp. She giggled a little, and then the giggles turned over and she began crying in earnest. She hacked out strained messy sobs, lying uncomfortably in Junko's lap. "I - I - I - I am!" she gulped, covering her face with her shaking hands. "I - I - I'm s-so  _ g-g-good _ at it!"

Junko was daydreaming in class.

She was daydreaming about her girlfriend.

Touko had always been a pretty awful person, but she’d never quite read as  _ sadistic. _ But now?

It had started with Touko witnessing some misfortune - like Yamada making a mistake in his dating sim, or Hagakure getting sold lettuce - and turning to Junko, pointing and giggling, as cute as you please. Junko rewarded her with a special little smile. The kind non-Despairs aren’t supposed to see.

Touko had gotten bolder. She begun  _ causing _ misfortunes - like pulling out the plug on Fukisaki’s computer when she hadn’t saved, or switching Oogami’s protein shakes for something else - before gleefully running off to tell Junko. Touko was pretty terrible at being subtle, and many of her exploits were not so much ‘pranks’ as they were ‘walking up to someone and doing something mean’. It worried Junko a little, but they could work on it.

“Th-th-this is  _ amazing!” _ Touko told Junko, shivering and sweating a little. “People keep getting  _ mad _ at me, and... i-it makes me feel  _ horrible!” _

Junko gave her a kiss on the forehead.

She curbed the worst of Touko’s pranks - the girl was getting too  _ good _ at having fucked up ideas. It wasn’t time for those yet. What’s more, the masochistic element seemed to be almost second nature to her already, and Junko had to keep an eye out to make sure it went no further than drowning her meals in salt.

Once, going for a midnight snack, Junko had walked in on Touko in the darkened kitchen, standing at the knife drawer, taking one out and just looking at it. She gently made her put it back.

Touko was getting dark circles under her eyes. They had a little ‘makeover’ night where Junko helped her conceal them. Touko’s gaze started to go glassy from time to time, like she’d remembered something very urgent far away from here. Junko would give her a light touch to bring her attention back. Not only that, but Touko’s stutter was actually disappearing, and Junko didn’t know  _ what  _ to make of that.

All in all, Junko was incredibly happy with her relationship.

She hoped Mukuro was jealous.

Junko was startled from her reverie as a hand abruptly reached into her space and placed a note on her desk. She looked at its source - Makoto - with outrage, before smoothing her features out into laid-back surprise.

_ Hwoof. _ She was slipping.

Junko quickly picked up the note and read it.

Her stomach dropped.

_ Dear Junko, _

_ We want to talk to you about  _

_ something personal. It’s about Touko. _

_ Meet in the rec room at 5:00, okay? _

_ Give me a thumbs up if you can. _

_ Love, _

_ Your friends _

She gave Makoto a wooden thumbs up. He returned it with an encouraging smile.

_ Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. _

They  _ knew, _ they  _ must _ know, they  _ had  _ to know.

No way. No way. No way.

She couldn’t  _ miss _ the summons. That would be  _ really _ suspicious.

As soon as class let out, Junko dashed to her room to prepare, slamming and locking the door behind her.

“Hey!” said Genocider cheerfully, sitting on her bed.

“Close your eyes and don’t listen, please,” Junko said quickly.

“Okay!” Genocider did as she was told.

Junko rushed through all her hiding places, packing weapons, traps, smoke bombs, body armor, and a few antivenoms. Finally, she armed the dead man’s switch to immolate her room, with all her hidden plans and technology, if she wasn’t back within two hours. She slammed the hidden wall panel closed, letting out a breath.

“Alright, Touko. You’re good.”

Genocider Syo uncovered her ears and opened her eyes. “Okay!”

“Oh. By the way,” said Junko as she marched for the door. “If I’m not back in one hour and fifty-five minutes, you should probably leave the room.”

“You got it!” Syo chirped, her tongue sticking out cutely.

Junko didn’t notice. It was time to set out to meet her fate.

By the time 5 o’clock and her classmates came around, Junko had checked the rec room thoroughly for traps, armed several of her own, and was perched on one of the straw parlor chairs, waiting with a seemly amount of cautious curiosity.

The “friends” entered. Makoto looked relieved to see her there. Sayaka, Sakura, Taka, and Chihiro filed in after him, each taking a chair in the most forced-casual way possible. Junko analyzed her chances. She’d taken the chair closest to the door, but unfortunately that meant her back was to it. The only other exit was the secret passage in the storage locker, but that was on the opposite side of the room.

“So, Ms. Junko!” Taka broke the awkward silence. “Thank you for coming. You see, we, as concerned friends of yours... and, of Ms. Fukawa, of course... wished to ask you about something!”

Sakura was nodding.

“Yeah, um...” Makoto spoke up. “The thing is, we’ve all noticed she’s been acting kind of...”

“Out,” Chihiro said flatly.

“Sure,” Makoto frowned. “And -”

“We wanted to check with  _ you,” _ Sayaka interrupted, “because...”

Okay. Junko had her revolver tucked into her shirt. She could take out four of them with four shots. Sakura would be the problem, but if Junko got out of the room first, and then triggered the spikes  _ and _ the cyanide gas -

“...we’re worried she might be too much for you.”

“Huh?” said Junko intelligently.

“Listen,” Makoto said quickly. “Like - we don’t want to make any assumptions about your relationship. I mean, we’re  _ really _ happy for you two.” Everyone nodded. “It’s only that - I mean...”

“Ms. Touko has been known to be a difficult person,” Taka said decisively.

_ “Especially _ lately,” Sayaka added.

“She unplugged my computer,” Chihiro said quietly.

“And so - we were just wondering -”

“If everything is alright, or if you would like advice or assistance,” Sakura said evenly.

Junko blinked.

“Um... no, no! Definitely not, I mean - I mean, Touko’s Touko!” She laughed. “But - I think I get her, you know? I think we really understand each other.” Junko metaphorically straightened her mask.

“Okay... well that’s great, great!” said Makoto, once again clearly relieved. Everyone nodded.

“Well then, thank you for meeting with us!” said Taka, holding out his hand to shake.

“Yes. Thank you.” rumbled Sakura.

Sayaka smiled prettily.

“Maybe next we should talk to Touko,” Chihiro mumbled. “About her behavior.”

They all made small talk for another several minutes, Junko smiling pleasantly as the adrenaline died down in her veins. Eventually, she was actually starting to feel something like relief.

Besides, she didn’t mind talking to these dummies. When she had to.

At the same time, she had her eye on the clock.

“Alright, I’d better go,” she said as the two-hour mark loomed. “I, uh - left my microwave on.” Junko said her goodbyes and hurried out of the room.

A few minutes later, she darted back in.

“Oh, hi again, Junko,” said Makoto, who was putting on his jacket. “Did you forget something?”

“Yep,” Junko said, disarming the motion-sensitive detonator she had set under the pool table. “My purse.”

When she got back to her room, she was startled to find Touko standing  _ right _ inside the doorway, rocking back and forth as if  _ very  _ excited.

“Hi, Master!” Touko said exuberantly. “Guess what!?”

“Hold on just a second, darling,” Junko said fondly, making to weave past her. “I really need to -”

“Who’s this little guy?” asked Touko, holding out a cardboard cutout of Monobear.

Junko actually shrieked and jumped back.  _ “What - !? _ But - how did you - ?”

“Y-You left a secret compartment open!” Touko crowed, beaming with pride. “So I s-started snooping! I looked through  _ a-all _ your stuff! Even the really secret, really awful stuff!”

“Wh- _ Why?” _ Junko gasped.

“To be awful!” Touko squeaked. “And I found - I found - the machine!”

“The -  _ the machine??” _

Touko started crying, tears sliding over her exuberant smile. She dropped Monobear and ran to Junko and held onto her sleeves, so tightly. “D-Do you think - i-if I do something bad - something  _ really  _ bad - will I get used to this - and hurting will stop  _ hurting _ so much??”

“Touko, just a moment!” said Junko, breaking out in a cold sweat. “What are you talking about? Tell me exactly.”

“If I -” Touko sniffed, tears leaking from her nose. “- d-did something horrible to... to the one I love?”

Then she slapped the chloroform pad over Junko’s face. Junko drew in one sharp, shocked breath, and it was over.

Junko flittered toward consciousness, awkwardly, like a butterfly whose wing got touched by a kid. She felt pain. She was lying on something hard. Her head  _ seared, _ like it was clamped in a vise.

She struggled to pull herself out of sedation. Her vision swam, she could hardly see anything but it was obviously her room, or one of the other dorms. She was on the floor. Breathing like she had been chased, she got to her hands and knees, feeling a hanging tube flop against her back.

Oh, god.

There  _ was _ something clamped on her head.

She reached up and felt the four plastic claws, leading to a stretchable tube of conductive bone matter.

This was, simply put, the machine she was going to use to wipe everyone’s memories of their time at school, their relationships with each other, and anything to do with The Tragedy or Ultimate Despair.

Uh-oh. Uh-oh. Uh-oh.

She tried to pull it off.

“No!” Touko cried, running forward. She funhouse-mirrored into Junko’s warped view. “Oh no, oh no!” She clamped her hands over Junko’s to stop them moving.

“Fukawa,” Junko croaked, her voice hoarse. An awful pain was growing in her gut. Awful, awful, she almost didn’t  _ want _ it, she almost didn’t  _ want _ it.

“We have to do this, okay?” Touko babbled. “Despair, like you said, okay? Put your hands down, okay? I’m gonna hurt you. I’m gonna destroy you as a person. It’s good, right? Good good good?”

“Touko.” Junko was actually crying. That shouldn’t be - that shouldn’t be - she had no reason to put on a crying act.

“See, you’re crying, right!” Touko gasped. “It’s good! It’s good! It’s -”

Junko effortlessly pulled her hands out of Touko’s grasp, and with a hard push, took the claws of the machine off her head. She pulled the contraption off, unsteadily getting to her feet as she did so.

“Master!?” Touko sobbed, still kneeling where Junko had been.

Touko, who knew everything. Who finally did know.

So Junko put the contraption on her.

Touko just looked at her, shocked, as Junko pushed the plastic claws down around her temples. Touko was staring at her calm roughness, at her absence of feeling.

_ I guess I never did really show you, huh? That there’s nothing inside this body. That it’s empty. _

“N-No, Master!” Touko gulped, flapping her arms in a panic. “Don’t you love me? You  _ don’t  _ love me! You don’t love me!”

“FUCK LOVE!” cried Junko, looking away. “LOVE IS NOT DESPAIR!”

_“TH-TH-THEN I DON’T KN-KNOW W-W-WHAT LOVE _IS!” shrieked Touko, kneeling pathetically on the ground but getting red in the face and in danger of choking on spit.

Junko just whirled around, stomping toward the other end of the tube, the heavy medical machine that Touko had apparently wheeled out of its secret alcove in the wall.

And that’s when the dead man’s switch hit two hours, exactly.

Junko just heard the boom, like a gunshot by her ear - she felt a huge rush of air, it pushed her against the hard, white metal machine, which rolled slightly - sound was gone for a moment, there was ringing - there was  _ heat _ \- and she could see Touko flying, horribly ragdollish, past her to tumble near the opposite wall. Black burns on her skin.

She saw the fire race instantaneously along the walls to engulf them, licking onto the couch and her desk and Touko’s clothes, exploding the lightbulb. Touko stirred, weakly pulling herself up from the floor, and crying, a bizarrely innocent cry. For once, she just looked like a baby that lost its mommy. Despite the blast, the machine’s clamp was holding tight to her head, little blue lights flickering through it.

The idea of moving felt weirdly foreign to Junko, along with the idea of sound, but she forced herself to rediscover it, heaving herself up using the edge of the machine, and taking a step. There was a crackle from the machine that frizzed Junko’s arm hair up and she snatched her hand away as blue sparks spat from the connecting end of the tube.

A shape lunged at Junko and she  _ shrieked, _ or a shriek that was mostly coughing. Touko fell at her and again grabbed onto her sleeves, sobbing disgustingly, her face sooted up with scorches like scars. The concealer for her eye bags was running.

“Master - Master, I hate you,” Touko blubbered.

“Touko -”

Touko shook her head, screwed up her face and  _ screamed. _ A scream Junko had never heard, but which she had been hearing the warnings of every time Touko spoke. She screamed right in Junko’s face, and Junko wanted to die, or disappear, or something she couldn’t even think of.

_ “Wh-Wh-Why would you DO this to me!?” _ Touko screamed. She began hitting Junko with her weak little fists, and it hurt, somehow it hurt. Junko felt like nothing.  _ “Wh-What’s WRONG with you? What’s WRONG with you? What’s WRONG with you? What’s WRONG with you?” _ She was beating bruises into Junko’s body. _ “Why am I like this? J-Junko, why am I like this!? Why a-am I like this!?” _ Junko felt dizzy, and then she found herself on the floor. Touko’s fists hammered down on her, hitting her shoulder and her cheek, like a very angry teddy bear.  _ “I wanna D-DIE! M-M-Master, I w-wanna DIE! Wh-Why is this s-s-still happening? W-Why aren’t I-I-I dead?” _ Touko knelt down over Junko’s aching body, her unraveling, blackened braids hanging down over her face and its pouring tears. The contraption clung to the top of her head, nasty blue sparks running quicker, quicker along the swinging tube.  _ “Masterrrr...” _ Touko whined. “I love you so much!”

Junko’s heart beat in some kind of terror. A frightening, fizzy glow was sliding down the tube to Touko’s head.

“P-P-Please l-let it be r-real,” Touko sobbed. “Please l-let it work. P-P-Please j-just let it w-work.”

Touko swooped down and shoved a kiss into Junko, pushing their lips desperately together, her hands clawed painfully around Junko’s cheeks. There was a crackling electrical blast, and Touko’s whole head lit up blue, her eyes went wide, and then everything else was blue as well.


	4. Epilogue: Goodbye Despair

There was a stillness, with sunlight shafts sneaking through, in the teenage girl’s room in the hospital near Hope’s Peak.

The girl was curled up in blankets. She was facing outward, staring idly towards the window, or possibly asleep. She had eschewed pillows - they were tossed awkwardly off the other side of her bed - and was resting her head on the mattress’s surface directly.

At some point, during the faded, ageless morning, there came a quiet voice at the door.

“...Knock knock.”

There was a pause, before Makoto finally heard Touko mumble, “Come in.”

He softly opened the door, stepped inside, closed it, and then stood awkwardly in the doorway. It had been a few days, but he still didn’t think he had the words for everything that had happened.

He took a breath and sat down in the visitor’s chair, facing Touko’s back.

“How are you doing?” he asked gingerly.

There was another long pause. He saw her hunched body in the blankets slowly breathe. Then she spoke, abruptly.

“I -”

Her voice was rough, and stuck, and she shuddered briefly as she swallowed.

“M... M... Makoto. I...” Croaking, she got a burst of frustration and flurried in the covers for a moment before pulling herself up and sitting against the backboard, her head falling back tiredly with a bit of a clonk. Her dark, deathly eyes slid over to meet Makoto’s. Her untied, limp hair hung strangely around her pale face.

Makoto listened, staring with an anxiety he wished was helpful.

Touko gulped her dryness again and narrowed her eyes with frustration.

“She...”

She sighed and breathed out again, actually seeming to loosen some of her taught-cord energy.

“I...” she started, “I w-want to h...h... _ hurt _ myself p-pretty r... r... regularly. B-But - I -” She swallowed. “I-I realized - I could  _ never  _ \- be as fucking cruel t-to myself a...as sh-she was to  _ me.” _

Makoto felt as though something was sticking in his throat.

There was a horrible, silent moment, where he wished he was saying anything.

Then Touko had a coughing fit, and Makoto, springing up, asked “Do you want a glass of water??” Touko nodded painfully.

He hurried out and came back with an icy water bottle and handed it to her; Touko grabbed it from him with a clawlike hand and tipped it into her mouth mechanically, gulping down a good quarter of it before putting it down heavily on the side table beside the coaster. She breathed out heavily, her eyes blazing.

“Th-thank you,” Touko said shortly.

Energy spent, she slumped back against the bed frame, taking a few steady breaths.

“Are you  _ okay?” _ Makoto began saying just as Touko spoke again.

“S-So...”

For a moment, her breathing slowed, and even softened, somehow.

“So now I  _ know...” _ She smiled sardonically. “Th-That... th-there are w-worse things than b-being  _ me. _ W...What  _ she  _ is... I will never, e-ever be. I... I g-guess... I l...l... _ love _ myself th...that... much.” Her expression twisted at the idea. She looked tearful, then ill, and then she took a moment, and let the feelings go. “So...” Touko sighed, staring flatly up at the ceiling. “That’s good. Th-That’s... good to know.”

Makoto let out the breath he’d been holding, and carefully sat back down in the chair. “That  _ is _ good,” he said earnestly, finding himself close to tears. “God, Touko. I’m glad.”

In all the time since coming to Hope’s Peak, he’d never understood so strongly that he was just a kid.

Time passed, heavy time, as the ceiling fan whirred, until finally Touko said:

“W-What, uh... what... sh-shows h-have you s-seen lately?”

...startling Makoto nearly to tears.

_ Oh. A normal question. _

_ Like... making conversation. _

The day wore on, the hospital quieted down for the night, and they talked about whatever.

Junko blinked blearily awake from her nap.

She’d been dozing and drooling on her desk - it wouldn’t be the  _ first _ time - only it looked like she’d somehow slept past the end of class, and everyone had left.

What... god... what class had it been?

She didn’t remember being in school at all. It was summer break, wasn’t it? She was... no... the  _ last _ thing she could remember, she was pretty sure, was stepping through the archway at Hope’s Peak. That’s right! It was the start of a brand new school year!

Hope’s Peak... she had had  _ big _ plans. But what were they? She remembered being incredibly excited. She and Mukuro were going to have so much  _ fun... _ this year...

...Doing what?

Huh. Just going to the most amazing school on Earth, she guessed!

And getting to use their Ultimate talent... Their... Well, their two  _ different _ Ultimate talents - fashion and combat.

Junko giggled. She and her sister had always made an odd pair. It was too bad they had never had more in common.

She wondered if Mukuro was here yet. She wanted to meet the other kids, and her sister would  _ definitely _ need her help being social. She got up and went to the door -

Only it was locked.

Junko pulled at it, a little petulantly. Nope, really locked. She tried to turn the handle harder. Locked.

That’s when she noticed the bars on the windows.

* * *

Credits song:  _ “Evelyn” _ by Kim Tillman & Silent Films


End file.
